brothers keeper - yn jay & yn que lyrics
[intro: yn jay]
(thank you, gc)
[verse 1: yn jay]
you say that you with me
say you ridin’ with me
you, you really with me?
my, is you really with me?
bro, i don’t know, though
you know what i’m sayin’? i’m tryna figure somethin’ out real quick
i get to the money
am the greatest ever
gon’ run up a bag
get to the bread
dough, you know what i’m sayin’? i gotta get this dough
i gotta get to the bread, i gotta stack this sh*t
ayy, i gotta stack this sh*t
n*gga said what i should’ve did with what i had, but never had this sh*t
how you understand?
i remember i was dead broke, i had nothin’, man
feel like my music and we have s*x, that’s my f*ckin’ fan
drop thirty when i’m in the game, i get buckets, man
ayy, i can’t trust my friend
how the f*ck is you my friend but i can’t trust you, man?
ayy, your b*tch say she done with me, but let me f*ck again
b*tch think i can bless her if she touch my hands
b*tch let me have a threesome ’cause i f*cked her friend
b*tch brought her auntie, i brought my uncle sam
i got aim with this b*tch, i can shoot a can
too much traffic at the trap, i had to move the van
i’ll cut the switch on like i do the fan
wild wild west draw, two fns
i just woke up in the bed with two best friends
i can’t make sh*t right, got two left hands
in the trap, trappin’ hard off two netspends
i’ma re*up off my two next spends
i’m with rio in a maybach, d*mn
the backseats recline, you can lay back, d*mn
[verse 2: yn que]
i just counted up dirty money, i gotta wash my hands
sh*t can get real any day, i gotta watch my plans
life throwin’ out some bullsh*t, tryna stop my chance
at the room with a bad b*tch, finna drop my pants
started with a qp and now i got some weight
i don’t got no notebook, but i got some pape’
used to hide racks of yayo in the frosted flakes
it felt good savin’ hoes ’til i lost the cape
n*gga disrespect me, he gon’ drop today
i just cut into a b*tch raw, like let me f*ck your face
i just cut into a b*tch raw
lil’ n*gga, you a poodle, i’m a big dog
my boy f*ckin’ up the bag, got me p*ssed off
ran into a white b*tch on the east side, tryna get some soft
i had to miss that play
out in cali blowin’ backpack boyz, man, i miss them days
in the studio high as h*ll, i got some sh*t to say
at the strip with the fishing pole, all night i’m finna fish today (thank you, gc)
[outro]
i’m finna bait a b*tch, i’m finna take a b*tch (jxckk just want a drink)
beat her down all night, i’m finna break a b*tch
f*ck the b*tch first night, you finna date the b*tch (yeah, you turnt, pj)
make a way forward
man
ah, sh*t
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